Firsts
by foreverabean
Summary: Six firsts Cooper was there for, and the one he most regrets missing.
1. First Breath

**A/N: So um I keep writing Anderbros. I'm nearly done with When Everything Was Falling Apart, and this popped into my head and I wanted to share it with some people I think will understand my constant flailing.  
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**This will be a 7 part fic, each part a vignette from Blaine and Cooper's history. This is a headcanon fic, but it will follow canon!Blaine's storyline once I reach that point.**

**I'm hoping to post one a day, up until we get Big Brother and all our different versions of fandom!Cooper are taken over by canon!Cooper and I become an incomprehensible flailing mess. **

**Lots of Anderbabies, fluff, some angst further in but nothing too tragic. ****I hope you enjoy!**

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><p>Cooper is eight when he first meets Blaine.<p>

Cooper is a very smart eight-year-old, thank you very much, and he excels in school, always bringing back worksheets with gold star stickers to put on the refrigerator, but he's still kind of confused as to how his little brother is going to show up. His parents have explained the logistics of it, of course, but Cooper can't get the image of a magically appearing baby out of his head. And he'd never admit this, because the kids at school would call him stupid, but Cooper thinks that might be really cool. He could put the baby in a cape and bring him to school and he would have tons of friends who would give him their snacks.

Now Cooper's actually hoping for a magic baby brother, so when his father ushers him into the dimly lit hospital room, he's a little disappointed to see that he's missed the baby's arrival. Just a little disappointed, though, because when he peers over the edge of the bed at the small bundle in his mother's arms, he's immediately distracted.

The bundle squirms and Cooper stares, gazing into the red-faced baby's eyes – the same color as his dad's, Cooper notes absently – entranced by the smallness of him. Cooper's friends with his really small boy named Jeremy – he's way shorter than Cooper and his arms are skinny like chicken legs, but the bundle of baby is even tinier than Jeremy.

Cooper reaches out a hesitant finger, poking gently at the bundle, and the baby gurgles loudly. Cooper jumps, pulling his hand to his chest, and his mother laughs, eyes tired but fond as she gazes down at her eldest son. Cooper always likes looking at her eyes – they're blue, like his, and so pretty, like the painted glass he'll sometimes get to string together at school. Cooper's proud of having those eyes.

"Cooper, this is Blaine," his mother says softly, taking Cooper's hand and urging him closer again. Cooper bites his lip and wiggles his fingers at the baby.

"Hi, Blaine." he says shyly. Blaine coos and mouths at his own first, tiny fingers curled and so, so delicate, like that same glass Cooper strings into necklaces for the little girls who try to hold his hand on the playground. Cooper is always reminded to be very careful not to drop the glass, or else it will shatter. He touches Blaine just as carefully, easing his finger into Blaine's fist, and Blaine's soft fingers grip Cooper's with surprising strength.

Cooper feels his father come up behind him and rest his firm hands on both of Cooper's shoulders, but he keeps looking at Blaine, smiling wider now as Blaine squirms, new eyes shifting everywhere.

"You did good, Char," his father says fondly, and Cooper's mother smiles, reaching out to grasp one of his father's hands.

"What do you think of your little brother, Cooper?" she asks, in a voice that sounds like Cooper's favorite smiles. Cooper contemplates, quirking his mouth to the side as he studies Blaine.

"I like his hair," he says finally, carefully pinching a tuft of Blaine's dark, downy hair between his fingers. Blaine gives a shrill wail, little mouth opening wider than Cooper thought possible, and Cooper scrunches his nose.

"Will he always be this loud?" he asks, unsure if he would be okay with that. The kids at school are loud enough – Cooper likes the quiet.

"Not always," his father reassures him, placing a hand on the top of Cooper's head and ruffling his wavy hair. "He'll have his big brother around to keep him happy."

Cooper smiles, rubbing his thumb over Blaine's crinkly forehead. Blaine's noises die down and he blinks up at Cooper, clutching Cooper's finger tightly.

Big brother Cooper. He thinks he likes the sound of that.


	2. First Word

**A/N: As promised, one a day! Preparing my flails for first listen Friday tomorrow - I don't know how that's gonna go down. I'm so glad people seem to be enjoying this so far! Disgusting amounts of Anderbabies and fluff ahead, be warned. Also, sorry these seem so short, they are going to end up getting longer as they go on.  
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><p>Blaine is two and won't shut up. Cooper loves his little brother to death, but lately Blaine's been making the best use of his vocal cords as he possibly can, and Cooper can hear him stamping his little feet up and down the hallways, mumbling non-words to a jaunty tune only Blaine knows, even though Cooper's door is made of solid oak and firmly shut. Cooper frowns as Blaine lets out a shriek of garbled nonsense and beats his fists on Cooper's door.<p>

"Not now, Blaine, I'm trying to read!" Cooper hollers at the door. His teacher has assigned _two chapters _of _Charlotte's Web _to read by Wednesday, and Cooper's already behind after having to pry his favorite Batman action figure out of Blaine's chubby fingers before the toddler tried to eat it.

There's a small whimper from the other side of the door and Cooper scowls, scrunching lower on his bed, trying to focus all his attention on the word Charlotte is currently spinning into her web above Wilbur (the word is "terrific," and Cooper supposes his annoyance at Blaine's constant squalor is rather terrific as well). Along comes another whimper, and the sound of quickly stifled snuffling. Cooper stands his ground for a full thirty seconds before his resolve crumbles and he tosses the book aside with a soul-deep sigh only such self-righteous ten year olds can perfect. Crossing to the door, Cooper pulls it open to reveal Blaine, sitting criss-cross-applesauce in the doorway, clutching his bare feet and sniffling.

"Blaine, I can't play right now," Cooper insists, crouching down to pat Blaine's rumpled curls. His baby brother looks up at him from under his long eyelashes, clumped together with the tears swimming in his big puppy eyes. Cooper is about to retreat back to his book, but Blaine sticks out trembling lower lip and his whole body shakes with this pathetic _sniff,_ and Cooper has to give in.

"Oh, all right," he groans, crouching down to scoop Blaine into his arms, and Blaine immediately squeals with delight and throws his arms around Cooper's neck, shoving his curls into Cooper's face as he clings. Cooper blames the stupid lip.

"But only for ten minutes!" he warns, prying a stray curl out of his mouth and settling onto his Transformers comforter with Blaine in his lap. Blaine wiggles excitedly, sucking his bottom lip between his newly-budding teeth as Cooper flips to the correct page.

"You wanna hear some of the book I'm reading?" Cooper asks, and Blaine nods eagerly, making a little "mhm" noise of assent. Cooper smiles as Blaine snuggles back against his chest; his little brother is too cute to stay angry with.

"It's about a pig named Wilbur and his friend Charlotte, who's a spider. She's got the same name as Mama, see?" Cooper points out the word on the page. Blaine's small finger follows his and pokes at the paper.

"Yeah, good job! Mama's Charlotte, you're Blaine, and I'm Cooper."

Blaine twists around in Cooper's lap and jabs a finger into Cooper's chest, exclaiming loudly, "Coop!"

Cooper stares at Blaine for a second before a huge grin breaks across his face and he nods, pointing to himself. "Yep, that's me! Coop."

Blaine pops out a cheesy smile that's all gums and teeth buds before turning back to the book and making a little hum, urging Cooper to go on.

Cooper can't keep the smile off his face as he reads to Blaine, especially when Blaine starts mumbling, "Coop, Coop, Coop-Coop" under his breath, totally relaxed in Cooper's arms. Cooper supposes that it'll get annoying when Blaine learns how to use his first word to shriek for Cooper's attention, but right now he's utterly content to read _Charlotte's Web _aloud to Blaine, keeping his little brother's curly head tucked fondly under his chin. In fact, it's rather terrific.


	3. First Bike Ride

"Coop, I don't know if I can do it," Blaine says softly, curls erupting out from under his too-big helmet. He eyes the newly de-training-wheeled bike with trepidation, twisting the dismantled wheels in his small hands.

"Of course you can, Blainers." Cooper says, grinning and gesturing for Blaine to get on the bike. "You told me that you'd take off your training wheels before I turned sixteen, and my birthday's tomorrow. Hop on."

Blaine sets the training wheels carefully on the ground and steps closer, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Coop…" he says, almost a plea, but Cooper just urges him forward again, smiling reassuringly at Blaine, and Blaine gives in, clambering onto the little blue bike that used to be Cooper's and clinging to the handlebars with a death grip.

"Okay, you know how to ride it already, nothing really changes except that you'll fall." Cooper explains, and Blaine's face goes pale. He scrunches his shoulders in like a frightened baby bird, but Cooper knows that Blaine can do this. Since birth, Blaine's done his best to do everything Cooper does, and is usually just as good at it, too. Blaine picked up piano at the age of four with a natural born talent to rival Mozart. A bike will be a piece of cake.

"Okay, ready?" Cooper asks, lifting up the back of the bike and aiming Blaine down the driveway. Blaine nods, tight-lipped and anxious, and Cooper counts down.

"Ready – set – go!"

Blaine takes off, skinny legs pedaling hard as he flies down the concrete driveway. Cooper lets out a whoop, cheering Blaine on, and it's only when Blaine has to turn off the driveway lest he crash into the neighbor's trash cans that he remembers that Blaine doesn't know how to turn without relying on the training wheels to hold him up.

"Shit -!" Cooper yelps, but it's too late. Down goes Blaine in a flurry of pointed elbows and scabbed knees, crashing in a small heap on the asphalt. The bike clangs on the street and Cooper's already running, skidding to a stop next to his brother.

"Blaine! Blaine, are you okay?" Blaine's crying, clutching his bloody knee to his chest and trying desperately to stem the flow of snot dripping from his nose.

"Oh, fuck," Cooper mutters, reaching out to unclasp the crooked helmet from Blaine's head. "You're okay dude, you're okay."

But Blaine's still crying, lip jutting out into that pout that's always been Cooper's kryptonite, and Cooper can't help but pull Blaine into his arms, dropping a gentle kiss to Blaine's wild hair. Blaine's arms lock around Cooper's neck and Cooper rises, gathering Blaine's little body to his chest.

"Up we go, little man," Cooper says gently, striding quickly up the driveway and pushing through the garage door into the kitchen.

Blaine's crying dies down to a muffled sniffling as Cooper deposits Blaine on the countertop, leaning in to take a closer look at Blaine's skinned knee. Blaine hugs his elbows close to his chest, swiping at his nose and chewing on the inside of his lip. The torn skin and blood looks even more vibrant against the bright lights and white tile, and Cooper tries to keep his face free of guilt, as to not make Blaine even more upset.

"Hey, it's not so bad!" he tells Blaine cheerfully, ripping a paper towel off the roll and running it under the sink. Blaine looks up at him anxiously, tears clinging to his eyelashes, and Cooper just wants to snatch him up and tell him how sorry he is.

"I forgot how to turn," Blaine whimpers, sucking even further into himself and scrubbing his eyes with his fists.

"Yeah, that was a pretty big fail," Cooper admits, dabbing carefully around the scrape. Blaine cracks a watery smile and leans forward to take a timid peek at his war wound.

"How cool did it look?" he asks hesitantly, voice soft as if he's expecting a rebuff, and winces as Cooper finishes cleaning out the blood and specks of asphalt. Cooper ruffles Blaine's hair and tosses the paper towel into the trash can, leaning his hands on either side of Blaine.

"Pretty damn cool." Blaine perks, mouth twisting in shy pride, and Cooper continues, checking Blaine's palms and elbows for any more scrapes. "You showed that asphalt who's boss."

Blaine laughs then, that bright, excited laugh that never fails to make Cooper smile, no matter which girl broke his heart this time, no matter what test he's pretty sure he's going to fail; Blaine's light and laughter is always enough to lift Cooper's spirits.

"You want a Band-Aid, little dude?" he asks, but Blaine smiles and shakes his head, tucking his knee up to examine it more closely.

"Nah, I kinda like it." Cooper smiles at the thinly veiled pride in his brother's voice; Blaine's proud of his war wound, and Cooper will let that feeling of badass-ness live until their parents come home from whatever benefit they've got this time. Then he'll hide the evidence, make sure both brothers play it off like a simple accident so the evening and morning of his birthday won't be full of such thick tension he cut it through with a knife. He'll let Blaine live out his badass moment, this time.

"Can I go again?" Blaine asks, scrambling down from the counter and tugging on Cooper's hand.

"Are you sure?" Blaine nods, smiling through the gaps in his teeth. "Okay. But first –" He tugs Blaine to the linen closet, and when Cooper's finished, Blaine stands before him with four pillows strapped to his skinny arms and torso, wearing a pot as a helmet and a very disgruntled expression.

"Coop, are you serious?" he exclaims as indignantly as an eight-year-old knows how.

Cooper laughs loudly, far too amused by his handiwork.

"Come on, Blainers. Let's see that pavement get you now."


	4. First Crush

**A/N: Sorry this is so much longer than all the others! The length is going to be pretty sporadic, ****I'm sensing. Also, sorry for so much italicization - Cooper just has a lot of _feels. _**

**Hope you enjoy this one, I'm really curious to see if this is somewhat followed in canon or not. 3 days. I can't hold all the feels.**

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><p>"That's pretty gay," Cooper comments absently, one eye on the television and the other skimming over his huge pile of lecture notes. He's 21, and college is getting the better of him, even over spring break at home. He's swamped with notes, and deadlines for novel-long papers hang over his head, tainting the happiness of seeing Blaine again.<p>

"You shouldn't say that." Blaine says lowly from where he's curled on the couch. Cooper glances over at him, one eyebrow raised.

Blaine's filled out in the year or so Cooper's been away at college; shoulders widening, jaw setting sharper, but he hasn't grown much taller, and despite the new definition, he's still smaller and skinner than the average 13-year-old. Cooper knows how rough high school is, especially Freshman year; he just hopes Blaine can steer clear of the pricks who like to paint a target on the backs of those too small to put up much of a fight.

"Why not? You saw that commercial, right?" Cooper tries not to be annoyed. He'd just made some dumb comment; he doesn't want to get into a whole debate over it. "It was pretty gay, that's all I'm saying." He drops his gaze back to his notes, tapping his pen against the mess of writing.

"Well you shouldn't _say it._" Blaine snaps, punching a clenched first into the flowered couch cushion and shoving himself upright.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize we were having a gay pride parade in our living room," Cooper shoots back, irritably ripping a useless sheet of paper out of his notebook and crumpling it in his fist.

Blaine jumps stiffly to his feet and stalks out of the room, firing a venomous, "Fuck _you_," over his shoulder as he goes.

Cooper is completely flabbergasted.

He stares after Blaine, open-mouthed, as the slam of Blaine's bedroom door rattles the whole house. Never, not even _once,_ has he heard Blaine swear, and especially not at _him. _Cooper doesn't get it, can't help the prick of hurt that blossoms through him. What had he done? Said a few vaguely insulting things about a Geico commercial? He doesn't get why Blaine's so upset.

_Fuck you. _It hurts more now, after coming home to see Blaine, even though the tension between Cooper and his parents is still through the roof after his refusal to go to med or law school, deciding instead on a teaching career. He's staying here for _Blaine, _because he knows how much Blaine misses him and because he misses Blaine even more. He could be done with these papers already if he had just stayed in his tiny dorm room, but he's here, trying to be a good brother, and he gets _that _thrown in his face.

_Fuck you. _Cooper throws his pen down, running his hands through his hair and staring pensively into space.

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><p>"Blaine?" Cooper knocks on Blaine's door, folding his other arm tight across the chest of his university sweatshirt.<p>

"Go away, Cooper," comes the muffled reply, and Cooper grits his teeth, pressing his forehead against the door.

"Blaine, open up. We need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about!" Blaine fires back over the thump of angry rock music, so far from the bright notes of The Beatles Cooper remembers Blaine loving just a few months ago. _I Want to Hold Your Hand _became _I Hate Everything About You _while Cooper was gone, and he's not sure how he's supposed to feel about that.

"How about we start with your colorful tongue?" Cooper suggests, voice laced with a hint of bitterness. Blaine's silent for a moment before the door swings open and Blaine glares up at Cooper, eyes dark and resentful, and Cooper can't get over it, this sudden change in Blaine. Gone is the bright, sweet, 12-year-old Blaine Cooper left behind; he's been replaced by a sullen, spiteful teenager, and Cooper hates it. This isn't _Blaine. _Blaine, with the too-big-bowties, about whom his college buddies joke, saying that Blaine's curls must get their spring from all the joy and exuberance Blaine has to rub into them each morning. Now Blaine's withdrawn and angry, holding none of that previous warmth, and Cooper's going to find out _why. _

"Let me in," Cooper says, gesturing for Blaine to move out of the doorway.

"Don't tell me what to do." Blaine snaps, but he lets Cooper pass anyway, scrunching himself in an angry knot against his headboard. Cooper ignores Blaine's comment and closes the door, crossing the messy room to switch off the throbbing bass still pumping from the stereo. Blaine lets out a huff, crossing his arms over his chest.

Cooper seats himself across from Blaine, folding his legs and raising a single eyebrow as Blaine glares.

"What, am I not allowed to sit on your bed now?" Blaine just shakes his head, this awful little sneer curling his lip, and Cooper _hates it_, hates this, hates how Blaine's looking at him like he wants nothing more than to sock Cooper across the jaw.

"What's going on?" he demands. "Acting out, this music, that _face,_" His point is only further emphasized as Blaine's eyes narrow and his sneer deepens. "I don't like it, Blaine, this isn't okay."

"Quit trying to act all grown up - you're not my _father_." Blaine spits, and _ouch. _Cooper stares at Blaine, mouth hanging open for the second time today, and he's actually _angry_, angry to the point of wanting to shout in Blaine's face that Cooper _never _wants to be Blaine's father, because what has their father done? He's done this. He's left Blaine to himself, let him wallow in whatever is going on inside him, without a single word. He never opened himself up to Blaine, offered to talk, offered anything other than a curt nod and an absent, "That's my boy." And because of that, now Cooper's receiving the brunt of the consequences. Cooper doesn't like to feel sorry for himself, but he's really quite clueless when it comes to things like this, and yeah, Blaine's words fucking _hurt. _

"I'm not trying to be your father," he says lowly, trying to keep his voice even. Blaine's eyes lower and he knots his fingers in his comforter, twisting the blue fabric around and around. "I'm just trying to figure out what's wrong, Blaine. I come home expecting us to hang out and be happy, but instead I get this. That's pretty shitty, I'm not going to lie."

Blaine bites at his lip, eyes downcast. His shoulders slump slightly, losing some of their previous tension, and Cooper takes this as a good sign and presses on.

"So what's up? School? Girls? It's a girl, isn't it?"

Blaine flushes such a deep red that Cooper thinks his little brother's head might shoot right off his shoulders, and he slaps Blaine's knee gleefully.

"It is a girl! You're crushing on her and she doesn't know you exist, am I right?"

Blaine shakes his head vigorously, and all of the sudden he looks close to tears. Cooper falters, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

"It's not a girl, Coop." Blaine whispers, and Cooper frowns, more confused than ever. He didn't just imagine Blaine's blush – in fact, it's still lingering high on Blaine's cheekbones – he's certain Blaine has a bad case of puppy love. Cooper remembers the symptoms well enough, remembers how any glance from that special girl would turn your knees to jelly, knock the wind out of you. So what's…?

"It's not a girl." Blaine whispers, and his eyes meet Cooper's, wide and pleading, swimming with tears. And oh.

_Oh. _Cooper understands a split second before Blaine says it.

"Coop… I'm gay." Blaine's clutching the comforter so tightly that his knuckles are white and he looks so _scared _that it breaks Cooper's heart. And oh – he gets it. He gets the anger, the sense of absolute loneliness, the reluctance to talk. And fuck, what Cooper said about the commercial – sometimes Cooper himself wonders how he's managing to scrape through college; he's fucking _oblivious. _

"Oh," Cooper says, because that's all he's thinking, oh oh _oh _as all the pieces click into place.

"Okay," he says then, and Blaine's eyebrows shoot up.

"Okay?" he ventures, as if he's hardly daring to believe his ears.

"Yeah, okay." Cooper says, untangling Blaine's hands from the comforter and lifting Blaine's chin so he can look him dead on. "It's okay."

Tears spill down Blaine's cheeks and he dives into Cooper's arms, burrowing his face into Cooper's neck. Cooper pulls Blaine close, eyes falling closed as he pressed his forehead against Blaine's curls. _It's okay, it's okay. _

"Who's the guy?" he asks finally, after Blaine's tears have slowed, pulling back and ruffling Blaine's hair with a smile. Blaine laughs shakily, wiping his face with his palms, and he's Blaine again, light shining out of his goddamn hair.

"Um, his name's Ethan," he says shyly, smile catching at his lips as a new blush spreads across his cheeks.

"Ooh, you've got it bad!" Cooper teases, and Blaine swats at his arm, blushing even harder. "Is he cute?"

Blaine nods, biting his smiling lips. "Very."

"Well, good. He'd be lucky to have you."

And Cooper means it – he's not just trying to get on Blaine's good side, or boost Blaine's ego; he means it, with every ounce of his being. Blaine doesn't even realize it, but Blaine is one of a kind. Blaine is pure. In the very simplest sense, Blaine is _good. _Nobody short of extraordinary will ever deserve Cooper's baby brother, and Cooper wants Blaine to know that, know that him being gay will not change a single fucking thing between them, not now, not ever. He wants Blaine to know that before he faces Mr. Anderson's hard silence, Mrs. Anderson's teary denials. Cooper's grown up and out of this house and he knows his parents. They are firm in their beliefs. They will not stray. And Cooper wants to make sure that Blaine will not stray, either; Blaine can not give in to them, make himself someone he's not just to win their acceptance. Cooper will not allow it.

Blaine's eyes water and he smiles at Cooper. "Thanks, Coop." he whispers. Cooper pulls Blaine back into his arms and holds him tight, sealing this in his memory, this Blaine, unbroken by the prejudice he'll undoubtedly have to face, no matter how hard Cooper will try to shield him from it. Cooper can hand Blaine a pair of boxing gloves, but only Blaine will be able to decide how hard he's going to fight.

"I love you, Blainers." Cooper whispers fiercely.

Blaine holds on tighter. "I love you too, Coop."


	5. First Dance

**A/N: Okay wow this is so long, but I had a lot of material to cover here, and I wanted to do this event justice. All the other chapters will be much shorter than this, I assure you haha. Also, I have not yet completed When Everything Was Falling Part but hopefully I will before the new episode! **

**This is ridiculously angsty, and I'm still a bit uncertain about the ending, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Warnings for mentions of gay-bashing and violence.**

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><p>Cooper's cell phone rings, jolting him from a peaceful sleep. He blinks, momentarily disoriented by the extra limbs draped over his body, but then calmly disentangles himself from the pretty blonde girl whose name Cooper can't quite recall (Bailey? Brittany? It started with a B, Cooper's pretty sure). The girl grumbles as Cooper pulls out of her grip, then rolls over, taking most of the bedsheets with her. Cooper shivers against the slap of early morning November air against his bare skin and fumbles for his boxers, tugging them up as his phone continues to ring shrilly.<p>

_God, what time is it? _Cooper thinks blearily though his pounding headache, digging in the pocket of his crumpled jeans for his phone.

"Can you turn that fucking thing _off_?" the girl snaps from under her pillow, and Cooper has another B-name in mind for her.

"So sorry, babe," he says waspishly, rolling his eyes and finally extricating his phone. It's Blaine – of course it's Blaine, who else would it be? It's eight thirty on a Saturday morning and everyone else is either dead to the world or has enough life experience to know not to wake the dead.

"Hey, Blainers." Cooper says into the phone, grimacing against the stale taste in his mouth and using his foot to poke around on the floor for some clothes.

"Hi Coop!" Blaine says brightly, and Cooper wants to demand to know Blaine's secrets for managing to sound so goddamn chipper this early. 14-year-old boys are supposed to be sleeping 13-hour nights, not calling their hungover big brother while he's suffering from a night of too much booze and sex.

"What's up?" Blaine asks, and Cooper's not planning on telling him that there's currently a naked girl in Cooper's bed – not that she'll be there much longer, judging by that dirty look she's giving him as she throws the covers back and reaches for her clothes.

"Not much," Cooper says. "It's early, though. What's up with you?"

"Thanks for the sex." Blondie says snootily, zipping up her dress and stepping back into her heels. Cooper covers the mouthpiece with his hand and bites back the sarcasm threatening to leave his tongue.

"It was my pleasure…"

"Brandye."

"Brandye. Right. See you."

Brandye rolls her eyes and strides out of Cooper's dorm room, slamming the door behind her. Cooper huffs, trying to refocus on Blaine's earnest chatter.

"…so yeah, I was wondering if you could come over and help me figure out what to wear, maybe?"

"Wear? Wear to what?" Cooper hears Blaine sigh a little, exasperated.

"Coop, did you hear anything I just said or were you too busy getting rid of the last pretty girl you slept with cause you got too drunk?"

Cooper splutters indignantly, even while buttoning his jeans and hunting for an asprin to knock out his hangover. "I – okay, just repeat what you said, don't get all maternal on me."

Blaine tells Cooper about the Sadie Hawkins dance his school is hosting next weekend, and how he and his friend Ethan are planning on going together. Cooper recalls that Ethan is the boy Blaine had a crush on when he came out, and that Ethan has since come out himself. Two gay boys going to a high school with very little homosexual acceptance. In Ohio. Cooper can't help but feel anxious and uncertain, and he tells Blaine this as he roots through his minifridge in search of cold pizza.

"It's not like we're going to be making out in the middle of the dance floor, Cooper." Blaine protests and Cooper can practically feel Blaine blushing through the phone.

"I'm not saying that, Blaine," Cooper sighs, pausing and leaning against the fridge, pressing a hand to his aching forehead. "I just… I don't want someone to take advantage of the situation. I don't know how watchful the chaperones are going to be, and I've heard how people have been treating you, Blaine."

Blaine is silent. _How people have been treating you _is an understatement. _How assholes have been pushing you into lockers and leaving bruises _would be more precise. _I'm going to go down to that school and beat the shit out of whoever's doing this to you _would be right on the money.

"Please, Cooper? This is… this is a big deal for me." Blaine whispers finally, and Cooper lets out another sigh, running his hand through his tangled bedhead.

"What time should I be there?"

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><p>Cooper's knock on the Anderson's front door the following Saturday afternoon is met with an awkward hug from his mother, a tight-lipped nod from his father, and a wall of solid tension.<p>

"Where's Blaine?" he asks, shifting his weight uncomfortably from foot-to-foot.

"He's upstairs, getting ready." Mrs. Anderson says softly, and Cooper moves towards the stairs, eager to leave his parents' presence, only to be stopped by his father's firm hand on his shoulder.

"We were hoping you could… talk him out of it, perhaps."

Richard Anderson at least has the decency to look embarrassed under the incredulous look Cooper's giving him. He drops his hold on Cooper's shoulder and fusses with the cuffs of his jacket, clearing his throat lowly.

"Please, Cooper." his mother interjects, stepping forward. "This isn't a good idea, I'm sure we all agree on that. After the way Blaine's been bullied –"

"I'm not going to be the one to tell him what he can and can't do," Cooper snaps. "That's your job."

"We fully understand that, Cooper, thank you." Mr. Anderson says gruffly, folding his arms across his broad chest. "It's just that, since Blaine's… recent choosing of paths, so to speak –"

"You mean him being gay?" Cooper says bluntly, stepping forward, and he's a bit pleased to find that he's a good inch taller than his father. "Is that what you're too uncomfortable to say? Your son is _gay._ That's not a path you choose, nor is it something that can be _fixed. _It just is."

"Cooper, please don't be difficult," Mrs. Anderson pleads, sky blue eyes watery, and Cooper just glares back. "We're trying to look out for Blaine. He's dead set on going to this dance, despite everything we've said, but he might listen to you."

"Wow." Cooper laughs humorlessly, shaking his head and raising his eyes to the ceiling. "I'm sorry you've screwed up enough that you have to go through me to get Blaine to be at your beck and call, but I'm not going to be the one to clean up your messes. If you'd ever wanted to fix things," he adds, turning to face Mr. Anderson dead on, "forcing him into building a car with you to see if he'll revert probably wasn't the way to go." And with that, Cooper turns his back on his parents, taking the stairs two at a time and leaving a shocked silence in his wake.

"Blaaainers," he calls, pushing into Blaine's room. Blaine's sitting cross-legged on his bed, eyes on the floor, and Cooper's heart sinks.

"You heard all that?" he asks resignedly, closing the door and crossing to sit beside Blaine, resting a comforting hand on his little brother's back. Blaine nods slowly, turning a black and red checkered bowtie over and over in his hands.

"Maybe they're right," he says softly, tossing the bowtie to the floor and leaning into Cooper's shoulder. "Maybe I shouldn't go."

Cooper shakes his head, bending to retrieve the bowtie, and no, he told himself a year ago that he was going to make sure Blaine fought for what he wanted, and Blaine's going to _fight,_ damn it. "You know what, Blaine? Fuck what they think." Blaine looks up, startled by the anger in Cooper's voice. "They can't control you forever, Blaine. You want to go to this dance? Go to the dance. You want to go with a boy? Go with a boy. It's your life, and your decisions, but I want you to know this – don't ever let anyone tell you that being gay is a choice, do you understand me? It's the way you were born, and whoever tells you to change obviously doesn't know you well enough to see how fucking great you are."

Blaine's eyes are wet and he leans in to hug Cooper tightly, whispering, "I missed you, Coop," against Cooper's shoulder.

"I missed you too, Blainers." Cooper claps Blaine on the back and urges Blaine up, looking him up and down with a skeptical eye. "Now I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure no boy is going to be impressed by those sweatpants."

"Shut up, Coop," Blaine laughs, renewed by Cooper's pep talk as he scampers over to his closet.

After nearly an hour of discarded bowties, too-big dress shoes, and a lot of short jokes on Cooper's part, Blaine stands in front of his mirror, hair tamed, wearing a light blue button up with a black bowtie and matching pants. He looks excellent – probably because Cooper picked out the outfit, but he'll refrain from bragging – not too dressy, but decidedly dapper, just inconspicuous enough that the uneasy weight lifts from Cooper's shoulders.

"You look great," Cooper says, and okay, maybe he's tearing up a little, because he's really fucking proud of his little brother, not just for staying true to himself, but for going beyond. He's going to a high school dance with another openly gay boy, and he's _excited. _He's wiggling all over the place, not a hint of fear or anxiety, just pre-date jitters. And that hits Cooper all at once – his baby brother has a date to the dance. Blaine is growing up. When the fuck did _that _happen?

"Coop, are you _crying_?" Blaine asks incredulously, twisting around to stare at Cooper.

"Your hairspray got in my eye," Cooper says gruffly, and Blaine just smiles shyly and hugs him, tucking his head under Cooper's chin the way he has since the days of baby talk and _Charlotte's Web. _

"Thanks for everything, Coop." he murmurs, and Cooper knows it's for more than helping Blaine pick out his outfit; it's for coming. It's for believing in him when no one else would.

"I'm always going to be here for you, okay?" Cooper says earnestly, and Blaine nods, eyes misting over.

"Oh god, don't cry," Cooper groans, shoving Blaine away playfully and straightening Blaine's bowtie. "You know that when you cry, I cry."

"Yeah, but you're already crying!" Blaine laughs. Cooper shoves him again, pulling Blaine's head under his arm, and a car horn beeps impatiently from the driveway. Blaine yelps and pulls away from Cooper's noogie, whirling around to pat down his hair with a panicked expression.

"That's uh, that's Ethan," he stammers, tripping around his room to snatch up his phone and wallet.

"You'll be fine," Cooper reassures him, grabbing Blaine by the arm as he makes for the door. "Hey – hey! Look at me." Blaine stops in his tracks and meets Cooper's eyes. Cooper takes a deep breath and rests his hands on Blaine's shoulders.

"Okay. Ethan's dad is picking you up?"

"Yep."

"And you'll call me as soon as you're home?"

"Yes."

"And you'll call if there's any trouble? And I mean _any_."

"Yes, Coop."

"Do you have any pepper spray?"

"Oh my god, Coop, I'm leaving! I'll call you later, I promise!"

"You better!" Cooper hollers after Blaine as Blaine hugs him quickly and darts out of his bedroom. "Be safe – I love you!"

"I love you too!" Blaine calls from downstairs, before the door slams and Cooper's left alone in the too-big house with too much anxiety clawing at his insides.

* * *

><p>Blaine doesn't call. Cooper doesn't know what time the dance is supposed to end, but it's currently twenty minutes after nine and Cooper's worried. He paces the limited length of his dorm room, back and forth, silent phone clutched in his hand.<p>

Was he stupid to let Blaine go? Should he have just insisted that he and Ethan could come hang out in his dorm room and watch a movie or something? Should he have called the school and offered to help chaperone so he could keep an eye on his brother? And what the hell time do high school dances end, anyway? Memories of his high school days are already hazy, though he's pretty sure he remembers the fun ending around nine. _Fuck. _

At 9:30, Cooper dials Blaine's number. It goes straight to voicemail and Cooper swears, sinking onto his bed and pressing the phone to his lips.

Something's wrong. Cooper can feel it in his gut; Blaine isn't okay, and Cooper's not just going to sit around and wait to find out why.

He jumps up, grabbing his keys from the hook on the wall and all-but sprinting from the dorm.

The late November air is freezing and Cooper regrets not donning a thicker coat. He starts the heater in the car, blowing on his fingers as he peels out of the parking lot.

Blaine's school is dark and lifeless when Cooper pulls up, and his heart drops to his stomach with a sickening jolt. He jogs up to the front door, breath puffing white in the air in front of him, rubbing his hands together against the cold. It's locked fast.

Cooper swears and kicks the door, succeeding only in bruising his toe.

Where the hell could Blaine be? He'd called his father on the drive over, and in a level, unconcerned tone Cooper had been informed that Blaine certainly was not home yet. There was an off chance that Ethan's father had either taken the boys back to Ethan's house or somewhere to eat, but Cooper never got the man's number and has no way to contact him.

"Fuck," Cooper hisses, whirling towards his car, meaning to drive all over the fucking town to find Blaine if he has to, when he hears a strange, strangled whimper from somewhere behind him. Brow creasing, Cooper turns back, crossing the parking lot in hasty steps and rounding the corner into the bus-loading zone. The school buses loom out of the darkness, glowing faintly in the moonlight, and Cooper's eyes dart around uneasily, ears pricked for another sound.

"Hello?" he calls, and there it is again – a tiny sob, wracked with hurt and terror. Heart hammering in his throat, Cooper hurries forward, only to stumble over something metal. He curses, regaining his balance and twisting around to see what tripped him. It's a tire iron, innocent enough lying on the chilled asphalt, but it's the smears of dark red that stain its surface that almost sends Cooper to his knees.

"Hello!" he yells again, desperately now, knowing something is wrong, something is so, _so fucking wrong, _and he nearly jumps out of his skin at the shrill scream that answers him.

"Leave us alone! We're not doing anything wrong, _please, _go _away_!"

Cooper's running now, catching himself on the edge of a school bus as he rounds the corner, nearly barreling right into a thin boy with sandy brown hair who screams and claws at him, lean arms snapping forward with surprising force. Cooper seizes the boy's wrists, grappling with him for a second before the boy gives a cry and falls to his knees, and that's when Cooper sees the blood. It's all over the boy's face, caked thick along his hairline, and it's dotted over the asphalt, and Cooper knows who this boy is, even though he's never met him once before in his life; there are only two people who would be left in a bloodstained parking lot tonight, and one of them is dissolving into hysterics in Cooper's arms.

"Ethan," he chokes, and his eyes roam frantically, trying to ignore the blood, and he wants nothing more than to find Blaine at the same time that's the last thing he wants, and this is all Cooper's fault, none of this would be happening if Cooper had just told Blaine _no. _

"My dad's late, he's late and they came out of nowhere, we weren't doing anything, we were just waiting for my dad, we were just_ waiting_ –" Ethan's babbling, eyes unfocused and his lips dusky blue with the cold, and Cooper hears only half of what he's saying because that's when he sees Blaine and the world seems to shudder to a stop.

"Take this and call 9-1-1, right now, Ethan – Ethan!" Cooper presses his cell phone into Ethan's shaking, bloody hands, guiding the boy's fingers to the buttons. "Tell them where we are, tell them to trace the call, something!" He staggers up, doesn't hear if Ethan actually manages to make the call, has eyes only for the small, broken body twenty feet away, and oh god, no no no, _please. _

"Blaine!" Cooper cries, skidding on his hands and knees next to Blaine, ripping his palms open but what does it matter, what does that blood matter when there's already a pool of it, frozen to the asphalt, soaking his jeans, matting in Blaine's hair, _oh god Blaine, no. _Cooper doesn't know what to do, how to feel as his hands flutter helplessly over Blaine's broken body, so bloody and so _fucking small_, and his skin is icy when Cooper presses his hand against Blaine's cheek, and Cooper doesn't know if he's breathing or not, his hand's shaking too badly when he tries to check –

"_Blaine!" _Cooper's screaming and Ethan's sobbing into the phone and Cooper can't think, can't accept this, Blaine broken, Blaine hurt, someone _hurt him_, even though Cooper told him that everything would be okay, Cooper let him go, Cooper _let this happen. _Cooper rips off his jacket and throws it over Blaine, cradling his baby brother in his arms, hand coming away red when he smooths back Blaine's curls, and his ears protest against this awful, broken keening until Cooper realizes that it's him, he's making that noise.

Time has become endless when the sirens finally come, and Cooper screams profanities when the EMTs try to wrest Blaine from his arms, even though in the back of his mind there's this voice that's somehow still sensible, telling him that _it's okay they're trying to help let them save Blaine because you fucked up and you can't _and only lets go when someone plunges a sedative into his arm.

* * *

><p>He wakes up in a hospital bed, Blaine's name still stumbling from his lips, to meet his father's dark, emotionless gaze. He doesn't say <em>I told you so<em>, and he doesn't say _you fucked up, _either, but Cooper knows. He can see it in the press of his father's lips, the silent tears his mother sheds in the doorway.

They finally let him see Blaine, once Blaine's out of surgery and off the ventilator, and Cooper sobs, clinging to Blaine's limp hand, the only thing that isn't covered in a thin layer of gauze. Blaine's face is more bruises than it is skin, and the x-rays still hanging on the wall show another layer of hurt and damage; three shattered ribs and extensive internal bleeding. They're keeping him under because of the pain, and all the doctors tell Cooper that Blaine can't hear him yet, but he won't stop talking, telling Blaine how sorry he is, how brave Ethan was, that the police are looking into the attack. Cooper doesn't tell Blaine that there isn't much to go on, seeing as there were no witnesses and no evidence, and that Mr. Anderson has decided not to spend any more money getting to the bottom of "the incident," as he and Mrs. Anderson have chosen to call it.

"I'm so, so sorry, Blaine," Cooper whispers, over and over until his eyes blur and he passes out from sheer exhaustion at Blaine's bedside. He won't stop apologizing, not until the ones who should be sorry are found, not until his parents stop looking at Blaine's lifeless form like it's _his _fault. Cooper will take the blame for as long as he has to; he will not let them blame Blaine for this.

The hours are days and the days are weeks in Cooper's mind as he remains at Blaine's bedside, rubbing Blaine's scabbed knuckles with the pad of his thumb, accepting thin coffee from a sympathetic nurse, words trailing off to nonsense as he nods off, and it's only when Blaine's fingers twitch in his own that the clock seems to shudder, snapping back to normal, one tick for one second. Cooper's head jerks up and his breath catches as Blaine stirs, blackened eyes fluttering open, split lip trembling for words.

"Hi, Coop…"


	6. First Kiss

**A/N: Real quick I'd just like to apologize for the lack of update yesterday - I didn't get home until late and was having issues concentrating, so I figured I'd just upload both final parts today instead. Hopefully I'll actually be able to focus - 3 hours until Big Brother? Help I'm dying? **

**Hope you enjoy!**

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><p>Blaine's sixteen, and Cooper's still trying to breathe easy at night. For the first year after the attack, he'd laid awake in bed until dawn broke, fractured and gray through his window, the blood of that night painting his eyelids when he closed his eyes. All he could think of was Blaine, Blaine and his shattered bones, shattered smile, shattered life. Everywhere Cooper was – on the plane to Chicago, teaching his evening class at the local university, grading papers in his tiny apartment – he was thinking of his little brother. Of the promises made and broken that night, of the pills and the detachment and the slow leaching of color from Blaine's eyes.<p>

Blaine has long since talked Cooper out of blaming himself for the attack, but Cooper feels it every night, over a year later, feels every hit Blaine took, feels the icy pavement under his cheek for the minutes that stretch on for what feels like hours. Cooper hasn't stopped worrying, not since he got that last call telling him that Blaine was on antidepressants but _don't worry son we've got it under control_, because of _course_ Cooper's going to worry. He'd left Ohio with no regrets but one – Blaine, and how Cooper couldn't bring him along. It will always haunt him, the sad, defeated look in Blaine's eyes when Cooper told him he got a job offer in Chicago and that he has to take it. Cooper's _always _going to worry about Blaine.

Which is why it's such a relief when Mr. Anderson calls him the March of Blaine's sophomore year, requesting Cooper to make a visit so they can sort out some vague trust fund or monetary issue in person. Cooper's eager, jumping at the opportunity to see Blaine, not really paying any attention to what his father's droning on about on the other line.

It's strange to be back in the house after so many years of small dorm rooms and even smaller apartments; it feels unfamiliar, as if Cooper hadn't spent the first 18 years of his life here, grown up with Blaine here, laughed here and cried here. All the memories are hazy, certain only by the pictures lining the walls.

Neither of his parents are home yet and Cooper leans his suitcase against the wall and sheds his jacket, groaning a little as his back protests, sore from the flight in.

"Dad, is that you?" Blaine appears on the stairs, an unwound tie flung over his shoulder, usually curly hair gelled down into a shiny helmet. Cooper knew that his parents had sent Blaine off to Dalton, the expensive private school Cooper had managed to wiggle out of attending, but seeing Blaine put-together and perfectly coiffed is a bit of a shock anyway. Gone is the boy of bowties and bright socks, and in his place stands a young man dressed to the nines in gray slacks, a crisp white button up, and a navy blue blazer slung over his arm.

"Coop?" Blaine says blankly, mouth dropping open, and Cooper gives a sheepish wave. He hadn't told Blaine he was coming; indeed, he hasn't told Blaine very much at all the past few months. After Blaine's attack and Cooper's reluctant departure, the phone calls had been almost daily, but as the weeks stretched into months Blaine had grown distant, and the phone calls had trailed into twice a week, then once a week, then maybe twice a month, until Cooper, hurt and confused, had just stopped trying. And he hated it, hated the distance, and he'd spent hours pacing the length of his kitchen, trying to figure out where everything had gone wrong. He curses the fact that he barely knows what's going on in Blaine's life anymore – he'd found out about Blaine's superstar status in Dalton's choir group, the Warblers, from his _father_, who had made some comment about _it's too soon, I'm worried he'll get too full of himself and bring back all that trouble _before Cooper had calmly told him to call him back once he'd pulled his head out of his ass. Cooper wants to be Blaine's first call again, five minutes after the newest achievement in his life, and that's the reason he's here; his father's proposal had just given him the excuse he'd been looking for. The paid-in-full airline ticket was a nice plus, as well.

"Hey, Blainers," Cooper says in an attempt at bravado, but his words sound guilty and false even to his own ears.

"What are you doing here?" Blaine demands, but a slow grin is spreading over his face and he gallops down the stairs, losing the blazer and tie about halfway down before throwing himself non-to-gently into Cooper's arms. Cooper staggers back, laughing, striking his chin against the top of Blaine's head as he realizes that he can no longer tuck Blaine's curls easily against his neck, the way he did when they said goodbye at the airport over a year ago. Blaine's grown taller, still barely clearing the 5'6 mark, but he's not the small, skinny, bruised 14-year-old anymore. He's become a sturdy, broad-shouldered young adult with a strong grip and a voice almost as deep as Cooper's, and Cooper wonders when the fuck he'd let this creep up on him.

"Look at you!" he exclaims, pulling back and holding Blaine at arm's length. "You grew! When did this happen?" Blaine smiles shyly, shrugging under Cooper's hands, and Cooper can't help but make sure that the bruises that still hung yellow on Blaine's skin the last time Cooper saw him are good and gone. "Oh my god is that _stubble_?" Cooper yelps, and Blaine swats away Cooper's grabby hands with practiced ease.

"Coop, _stop_!" He laughing though, and Cooper runs his thumb over the scratch of dark stubble on Blaine's jaw, crowing appreciatively.

"I'll be goddamned, you're all grown up. Dad taught you how to shave, right?"

"Yes, Cooper, I know how to shave." Blaine rolls his eyes, shoving Cooper's shoulder playfully, and oh, okay, maybe things aren't so different between them after all. Still, Cooper has to ask –

"How come you stopped calling me?" He says it lightly, tone teasing at nonchalance, but Blaine must see the anxiety in Cooper's eyes and his smile fades.

"I've been really busy, Coop," he says, mouth twisting apologetically. "I meant to call, I did! But lately I've been so wrapped up in the Warblers and school and getting ready for Regionals –"

"Yeah, I hope you've been taking video of these show choir competitions I know nothing about!" Cooper says indignantly, raising an eyebrow at Blaine. Blaine flushes, looking contrite.

"I'm so sorry, Coop, I really am. I'm so glad you're here – I missed you so much." Cooper relents as his little brother hugs him again; he knows Blaine can only concentrate on one thing at a time. It's really no wonder the phone calls started faltering once he got into Dalton and started belting out songs like he'll never live another day. He's seen one video, taken on his mother's Blackberry, of Blaine performing at a competition a few months earlier; Cooper's heard Blaine sing before, in the shower or while working on homework, but the humming melodies stopped around the time Blaine took a tire iron to the ribs. And Cooper will be the first to admit – hell, he'd probably shout it from the rooftops – Blaine is _amazing. _Cooper may be biased, but he swears up and down that Blaine's solo of _Hey, Soul Sister _was better than the original.

"Oh I know, you pined for me every day," Cooper teases, squeezing Blaine tight before ruffling his hair. Well, tries to, anyway. His fingers catch on the hardened gel and he frowns. "What's up with the gelmet?"

Blaine flushes, shoving against his chest and backtracking to retrieve his blazer and tie. "Shut up, Coop. The curls were cute when I was six, but at Dalton we like to look refined."

Cooper snorts, crossing his arms over his chest and shifting his weight. "Whatever you say, Blainers, I still think they're cute. So… how are you?" His voice drops to serious and Blaine ducks his head, scuffing his toe against the hardwood floor.

"I'm good. Really, I am!" he adds earnestly as Cooper looks skeptical. "The anxiety attacks stopped ages ago and I've been off the antidepressants for… like six months? The Warblers really helped – I think it was just what I needed."

Cooper nods, relieved, and they both stand there for a moment, not quite awkward but close enough to it that Cooper bounces on the balls of his feet and Blaine murmurs something about an after school meeting as he shrugs on his blazer.

"That's good! That's really, really good. Hey – hey, where are you going?" he adds as Blaine loops the tie around his neck and looks for all intents and purposes as if he's about to stroll out the door and leave Cooper behind.

"I promised I'd meet Kurt after school, and I had to come home to, uh, prepare some stuff for Regionals, so I'm running late." Cooper doesn't miss the way Blaine's cheeks flush at the unfamiliar name – _Kurt _– and pounces. He seizes Blaine by the scruff of the neck, frog-marching the protesting boy into the living room as Blaine babbles something about not wanting to be late and bejewled canary caskets – Cooper's not sure if he got that last one right, because what the _hell_ – and pushes Blaine down on the couch, standing over him with his arms crossed.

"Alright, Blainers. You better fill me in on this whole situation, or I will lock you in the bathroom and you'll never see – what's his name? Kurt? – again." Cooper realizes that maybe he's going over the top, what with the shitty jokes and overt cheer, but for god's sake, he's determined to worm his way back into Blaine's life, whether Blaine likes it or not. Cooper may not be a homebody, but there's not a day that goes by where he doesn't miss having Blaine nearby, and he's not going to give up on having that back, at least for the brief time that he's here.

Blaine protests, making to get up from the couch but Cooper places his foot squarely against Blaine's chest and pushes him back before Blaine can lift his ass two inches. Blaine squawks about getting dirt on his white shirt and Cooper almost laughs out loud, because _there's _the Blaine he knows.

"Do _not _make me sit on you, brother, because you know I will. Who is this mysterious Kurt? I see that lovelorn look in your eyes, don't even try to hide it." Blaine's shoulders slump and he spills, telling Cooper all about Kurt Hummel, the boy with the eyes like pieces of the sky on a summer day, the wit more explosive than a firecracker, and the voice that sounds like a symphony of angels. These are all Blaine's words, of course, and Cooper thinks he can feel his standard airline peanuts making an unwelcome reappearance.

"…and he sang this song yesterday, Coop. And it was like… all the bad stuff that happened to me a while ago, it didn't matter anymore. 'Cause there's this boy, and he's signing the Beatles and I just look at him and I realize how clueless I've been, and how many times I've messed up with him, and I want to fix it. I want to be the one that fights for him, you know?"

Cooper just stares down at Blaine's open, earnest face, wondering how much of this he'll be able to take before he needs an insulin shot. Blaine's eyes are unfocused and dreamy, cheeks flushed pink at the mere mention of Kurt, and Cooper knows, in an instant, that this is different than before, with Ethan. Blaine is older, wiser; he's been taught to fight harder for the things he wants. Blaine _wants _this. He wants this chance with Kurt, no matter how slim or how unrealistic. He wants it _bad. _And so Cooper refrains from making a comment about how he has about twenty new cavities to fill and tells Blaine to get his sappy ass up and into the car.

Blaine is jittery the entire drive to Dalton, smoothing his pants until the only creases in them are the ones from his sweaty palms. His knee jiggles up and down and he stares out the window, chewing on his lip.

"It'll be fine," Cooper reassures him, and ouch, he remembers saying those words before, and it wasn't fine at all. But he tries to push away the residual anxiety and focus on this, on now. From what he's heard about Dalton, there's no way Blaine's the only openly gay kid. His Google search had assured him that Dalton had a strict no-bullying policy in place, and anyone who went against it would be hauled out on their ass. Not literally of course, but Cooper had gotten the drift.

Blaine flashes him an absentminded smile as Cooper pulls up at Dalton's impressive front gates, and he takes a deep breath, buttoning his blazer and straightening his tie with a shaky hand.

"Come here," Cooper laughs, reaching across the console to adjust Blaine's tie more carefully. "There. You look fine. Just play it cool. Any idea what you're going to say?"

"No," Blaine admits, and he looks downright terrified.

"Hey," Cooper claps a hand on Blaine's shoulder. "It'll be great. He's gonna love you. Just mention whatever you said to me about the sun shining out his ass."

_"Cooper,_" Blaine hisses, swatting at Cooper's arm and nearly tripping out of the car.

"Good luck! Text me when I need to pick you up!" Cooper hollers, and Blaine shakes his head at him, half-smiling as he hurries up to Dalton's front doors. Cooper watches him until he disappears inside the building and then pulls back onto the highway, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and telling himself to calm the fuck down.

He passes the time by grabbing a cappuccino at the nearest coffee shop and rests his chin on his hands, gazing pensively out of the window. Cooper's not going to deny it – this whole situation has him scared half to death. He knows things are different now, and that Blaine has grown more than Cooper thought possible, but he can't change the fact that the last time he saw Blaine, Blaine was still silent and scared and recovering from the trauma of a physical and emotional beating, and to be honest, Cooper didn't think Blaine would ever have the courage to try again. He's proud, though, of course – that's probably the understatement of the century – just anxious. He doesn't want Blaine to get hurt again. Cooper plays Solitaire on his phone and sips his coffee for a good hour until Blaine texts him.

_I'm ready! Everything went great! _Cooper smiles at the abuse of the exclamation point and jumps up, tossing his empty coffee cup and hurrying back to his car.

Cooper only has to take one look at Blaine to know that things went a little better than _great. _Blaine's flushed, hair slightly ungelled and tie hanging loose around his neck as he stumbles towards the car. This dopey smile floats around his mouth and he fumbles with the door handle for so long that Cooper rolls his eyes and has to stretch across to open the door for Blaine. Blaine fairly collapses into the car, knocking his knees against the dashboard and heaving this contented sigh that seems to rattle his very bones.

"Alright, out with it," Cooper demands eagerly. "Blaine. _Blaine._" He slaps Blaine's knee and Blaine swims back to reality, hazel eyes unfocused and absolutely fucking _lovestruck. _"What happened!"

"We kissed," Blaine breathes, face splitting in this dazzling smile that Cooper hasn't seen in _years_, not since the days where a teddy bear or bowtie (or teddy bear wearing a bowtie) could make Blaine smile like this. Cooper's tempted to run back into Dalton, find Kurt, and welcome him to the Anderson family with a bear hug to thank him for putting this smile on Blaine's face. "And we're boyfriends. I think. Oh my god, Coop, Kurt's my boyfriend."

Cooper laughs out loud, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot. "What did you say? You need to tell me everything!"

And so Blaine tells Cooper everything, from start to finish, though Cooper's pretty sure Blaine's generalizing by the time his story gets to the second kiss, if his rumpled shirt and slack tie are any indication. Cooper listens and exclaims and laughs until he cries – _you move me? Oh my god Blaine did you really say you _move _me? _– and Blaine's all but radiating joy through the roof of the car, and Cooper pauses at a red light and just looks over at Blaine, flushed and excited and practically incoherent, and he thinks that, in this moment, he might be even happier than Blaine is. Seeing Blaine happy… it's honestly one of Cooper's favorite things in the world. And knowing that Blaine has managed to stay joyful and vibrant even while Cooper's across state lines – Cooper thinks he can finally sleep well at night.

"Alright, so when do I get to meet this Kurt?" Cooper asks when Blaine's finally out of words and is slumped limply back against the seat, chin propped in his hand and his eyes in another dimension entirely. Blaine blinks, looks up in surprise.  
>"You want to meet him?" Cooper almost slaps Blaine over the head.<p>

"Of course I want to meet him! He's got you drooling all over that nice shirt, you idiot, of _course _I will be meeting him."

Blaine's grinning now, and he lunges across the car to grab Cooper in an unexpected hug. Cooper grips Blaine tightly, biting back all the words he could say that would ruin the moment. _I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. I missed you so fucking much. I'm so afraid you're going to get hurt again. _

Instead, he just smiles brightly and drops a noisy kiss to Blaine's hair, stretching his arms over his head. "I'm here for a few days – let's make them count."

"Well, Regionals is this Saturday, if you want to come…"

Cooper doesn't even hesitate. "I do." Blaine perks, and Cooper swears he's never seen Blaine smile stretch this huge.

"Alright! Saturday it is. Try not to embarrass me too much, okay?"

Cooper steps out of the car, leaning against the roof to raise his eyebrows at Blaine. "Me? Embarrassing? Never."


	7. First Love

**A/N: oh god. So.. it's Saturday. Really sorry about that, guys, I know I said I would be done before Big Brother but I sort of had an emotional meltdown over that episode and nothing I wrote was at all coherent. ****Absolutely delighted with how they handled everything, though some of Cooper's comments to Blaine had me shouting at the tv. What did you guys think about everything? I know that Klaine puppy scene had me rolling around in fits of obnoxious squealing.  
><strong>

**I just want to say thank you for all the reviews and alerts, it's really nice to know people appreciate the stuff you write, so thank you so much! I adored writing this, and you can bet this won't be the last you see from me. I still have to write up the epilogue to When Everything Was Falling Apart (2 weeks late sigh), so keep an eye out for that if you're interested.**

**I hope you enjoy this!**

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><p>This time, the drifting is Cooper's fault. He accounts it to papers to grade and history to teach and Cooper can't remember the last night he hasn't fallen asleep with a pen still in his hand and the edge of some textbook pressing into his face. Summer is a week around the corner and Cooper's about to be hung with all the deadlines.<p>

The last phone call with Blaine was a month ago. Cooper can't even remember what they talked about, only that it was too short and was interrupted by one of Cooper's students drunk-dialing him and had to let Blaine go with a hasty apology and a promise to call him back later. Cooper ended up falling asleep on the couch and waking up with a backache and cherry of guilt to top it off. Work and papers and bills caught up to him, and that was the last time he and his little brother spoke. And Cooper's guilty about all the missed calls from Blaine that glare at him from his phone, he _is. _But the last three calls he tried to make went straight to Blaine's voicemail and Cooper's at a bit of a loss on what to do now.

And then there's Bridget. Snarky, beautiful, firecracker Bridget; she's snatched Cooper's heart up in her hand and refuses to give it back. Cooper forgets about homesickness when she's around, forgets about the stress of Chicago and the little brother he left behind. He doesn't really believe in love, but he's starting to think that Bridget might be able to teach him how.

But then when there's not Bridget, there's that guilt. And it pisses Cooper off, because isn't this what people _do_? Grow up and grow apart and start new lives? He hates himself for how much he wants to be selfish and live for _himself. _Cooper may have grown up, but sometimes he wishes he could count on someone to make the hard decisions.

"You okay?" Bridget asks, tilting her head on his shoulder as he stares blankly at the TV. The colors of the prime-time drama play in her eyes as she regards him and he threads his fingers in her hair, smiling just a bit too brightly.

"I'm fine. Just… just thinking." Bridget _hmms _and drums her fingers against Cooper's thigh, eyeing him speculatively.

"Your brother?" And here's why Cooper's starting to think that Bridget could be the exception to every premeditated expectation and certainty Cooper's got; Bridget gets him. She can easily pick Cooper's thoughts right out of his head, assemble them with a smile, and calmly tell him exactly what she thinks of his inner-workings. Sometimes it's _yeah, I would have done the same thing,_ and sometimes it's y_ou are a fucking idiot_. Right now Cooper's kind of sensing _you are a fucking idiot _and braces himself for impact.

"Why don't you just _call _him?" Bridget demands, waving the remote at the TV to mute the volume. Cooper sighs and lowers his eyes, toying with the frayed lining of the couch. Bridget twists her fingers through his, pulling Cooper's attention to her.

"Call him, Coop," she murmurs, green eyes earnest. Cooper half smiles and presses his lips to her knuckles.

"I don't think I'm one of his favorite people at the moment." he admits, and it surprises him, how fucking much that hurts to say. After the childhood Nerf gun battles, hand-me-down bowties and _Charlotte's Web, _Cooper's always prided himself on being Blaine's favorite person. Now Blaine's got Kurt and both brothers have an inbox full of missed calls and too-short voicemails, and Cooper's actually kind of miffed.

"That doesn't matter," Bridget says firmly."You were at one point, right? That doesn't just disappear."

She's right. Of course she's right – when has she ever been wrong? Cooper kind of wants to pin her to the couch and smother her with grateful kisses, but he knows that she would probably kick his ass.

"Thank you," he murmurs, settling on a quick peck to her cheek and scrambling up from the couch. She just smiles and rolls her eyes, turning back to the television with a knowing wave of her hand.

Cooper paces into the kitchen and finds his phone after a minute or so of hunting through papers and empty coffee cups, cursing when he accidentally sends his keys flying off the counter and into the trash can.

"You all right in there, babe?" Bridget calls, sounding amused but unsurprised, and Cooper shushes her as he paws through paper plates and takeout containers for the keys.

Finally, after Cooper has managed to right the kitchen and pick up his phone, he dials Blaine's number, swallowing down the nerves as they rise with his heart to hammer in his throat.

"Hello?" The line picks up with a stifled giggle and someone shrieking in the background, and Cooper takes a deep breath.

"Hey, Blainers." The muffled laughter quickly fades and Cooper can hear Blaine suck in his breath slightly.

"Hey, Coop."

"Am I interrupting something?" Cooper asks hesitantly, leaning back against the counter.

"Oh no, no you're fine." Blaine murmurs something unintelligible away from the phone but quickly returns. "What's up, Coop?"

"Just wanted to call, check in, you know." Cooper clears his throat nervously – why is he nervous? Talking to Blaine shouldn't be hard. It's _never _been hard. "We haven't talked in a while."

"Yeah, I know! It's crazy." Cooper can almost see Blaine's head ducking, teeth worrying at the inside of his lip as he searches for words. It's the same thing Cooper's doing now.

"I miss you, kid," Cooper says, and fuck, here he goes getting all emotional. He swallows hard and presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, weight sagging heavily against the counter. "I'm sorry we haven't talked in so long, I… I feel like shit, I'm so sorry."

"Oh, Coop," Blaine says softly, and Cooper lets his head fall back and stares at the ceiling, blinking through the sting of unexpected tears. "Don't beat yourself up; it's my fault, too. I should have answered the phone."

"I should have, too." Cooper sniffs slightly and rubs his sleeve over his eyes, turning to rest his elbows on the tile. "It's so good to hear your voice, Blaine. How are things? What's been going on? I feel like I don't know anything anymore."

"Things are good, they're really good! The Warblers and I actually just got back from performing at the summer carnival in Westerville, that went pretty well – as well as performing at theme parks can go, obviously." They both laugh, and Cooper tries to imagine the group of carefully styled boys in their spotless blazers, prancing through the dust and crooning some Top 40 bubblegum pop.

"I think I might need a video of that as proof," he admits, and Blaine laughs again.

"Yeah, I think Kurt has a clip of it on his phone."

"How is Mr. Hummel these days?" Cooper asks instantly, perking at the mention of Kurt. "Are you still as ass-over-teakettle as you were last time I saw you? I'm shocked hearts haven't popped out of your eyes by now. If Kurt knew about your little meltdown in the car after the _you move me _escapade -"

Blaine splutters a little and Cooper hears a soft giggle in the background that definitely doesn't belong to Blaine.

"Oh, so I _am _interrupting something!"  
>"No – no, not like that – <em>shut up Cooper oh my god – <em>Kurt, stop laughing, I didn't have a _meltdown_ -" Cooper roars with laughter and waits until Blaine has stopped stammering out half-assed excuses and returns to the phone, huffing down the line at him.

"Don't breathe so hard, Blainers, you're not the big bad wolf."

"Oh, ha ha, you're hilarious." Cooper can't mistake the smile in Blaine's voice, though, and grins.

"In all seriousness – how are things with the two of you?"

"It's…" Blaine trails off and Cooper imagines him staring off into space, or maybe gazing lovingly at Kurt, who Cooper's sure is lounging in Blaine's room, perhaps one eyebrow raised as he listens in on the conversation. "Things are amazing, Coop. We can just… _talk. _For hours, and I never get tired of listening to him. He's incredible."

Cooper smiles, so full of pride and joy that he thinks he can feel his chest swell. "I'm so happy for you, bud."

"Thanks, Coop. I, uh… I told him I love him."

Cooper's heart thuds in his chest and he's not sure what to say, he's not even sure if he just processed that information correctly. "Oh?"

"He said he loves me, too."

Blaine's voice practically drips adoration and love and Cooper finally gets it through his skull – Blaine's in love. Blaine is loved, by someone other than family. Kurt Hummel, this elegant, sassy boy who makes Blaine dizzy with puppy love, loves Cooper's little brother. And that moves him more than he expected, brings tears to his eyes, actually, because isn't that what Blaine's always wanted and needed? Someone to be there to love him when his parents and Cooper couldn't? Cooper's never wanted to kiss someone as much as he wants to kiss Kurt Hummel, and his girlfriend is sitting just a room over. Cooper thinks he'll send a very long-winded, emotional thank you letter to Kurt's address as soon as he can think past _my baby brother is in love. _

"Blaine, I… Wow." Blaine laughs a little, sounding embarrassed, and Cooper wonders how Kurt's gazing at Blaine now.

They talk for a little while longer and Blaine asks how Cooper's love life is going, and, well, Cooper could write essays on Bridget but it's getting late and he doesn't want to bore Blaine to tears, so he keeps it simple. _I have a girlfriend. She's beautiful and she's amazing and she makes me feel like I'm living in one of those stupid romantic comedies that you always used to make me watch. _Blaine practically _squeals _and Cooper can hear him hissing to Kurt about _my brother has a girlfriend finally he's so happy _and he feels his throat tighten again, because he misses Blaine so fucking much.

"I'm so proud of you, Blaine." Cooper says suddenly. And he is. He's so fucking proud of who Blaine has grown up to be – strong, independent, in love. Blaine's first love – and Cooper's lucky enough to be there to hear about it while the emotion's still fresh. There will be other firsts, Cooper knows. There will be embarrassment, and times where Cooper hopes to god his little brother will be safe, and Cooper knows he can't be there for all of them. This separation has taught him that much. People grow up and apart and life gets in the way, but Cooper doesn't want to keep catching these firsts by the tail as they fly by – he wants to see them through, like Blaine's first word or first bike crash or first kiss. Blaine is the most important person in Cooper's life, and Cooper's going to do everything he can to make sure he's there for the things Blaine only gets to do once.

"Thank you, Cooper," Blaine whispers, voice thick, and Cooper's eyes are watery as he smiles at Bridget, who leans against the doorway watching with a look in her eyes that says _there, that wasn't so bad, was it? _

"Alright, I better let you go so you and Kurt can give each other hickeys or whatever it is you kids do these days," Cooper teases, and Blaine just sighs in exasperation. "Hey, Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you. Let's talk more, okay?"

Blaine makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. "I love you too, Coop. I miss talking to you."

"I'll call you this weekend, alright? Make sure you answer your phone, dummy."

Blaine laughs, happy, _he's happy everything's okay, _and Bridget moves quietly to Cooper's side to rest her chin on his shoulder. "I will. Bye, Coop."

"Bye, Blainers." Cooper hangs up and can't decide whether he wants to smile or cry. He settles on both and Bridget wraps her arms around him, letting him sniff into her curly hair.

"I told you everything would be okay," she murmurs, drawing back and brushing her thumb over his cheek. Cooper nods, letting out a long sigh and stretching his arms over his head.

"Yeah, yeah, you always win."

She grins darkly, backing him up against the counter to kiss him. "You know I do." Cooper tugs gently at one of her curls and they say their goodbyes, Bridget heading back to her apartment a few blocks over while Cooper stretches out on his bed, opening his laptop and entering Kurt's name into the Facebook search bar.

He's decided to send that message to Kurt, after all. Let him know how grateful Cooper really is, and how lucky Blaine is to have someone like Kurt. How Cooper has been able to finally stop seeing the skinny boy with the bruises when he looks at Blaine, and how he now sees someone brave and mature, capable of telling his boyfriend how much he loves him.

_Holy shit, Blaine's in love._

Yeah, Cooper doesn't think he'll be getting over that any time soon, either.


End file.
